


Week 4: Daffodil / Chivalry

by DramioneLDWS



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24488509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneLDWS/pseuds/DramioneLDWS
Summary: Each chapter is an individual drabble written by a single participant.Please mind the tags/triggers at the top of each entry. Only major Archive warnings will be noted.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 44
Kudos: 48
Collections: Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing - Round 1





	1. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: New Beginnings  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 496  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Art3misiA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Art3misiA/pseuds/Art3misiA)

Hermione stepped off the train at Hogsmeade. Her foot caught on the edge of the platform and, to her dismay, she found herself plummeting towards the ground. She shot her hands out and braced for impact, but her forward motion was arrested by a pair of strong hands on her shoulders. 

She looked up gratefully with a thank you on her lips, only for the words to catch in her throat as she stared into the face of Draco Malfoy. Instead of his trademark sneer, he appeared concerned. "Are you okay?" he asked softly as he righted her.

"Um. Yes. Thank you," she stammered. They continued to stare at each other awkwardly until she broke the silence by blurting, "So you came back for eighth year?" then cringed inwardly at her silly question. Of _course_ he had, or he wouldn't be here, wearing his school robes.

Instead of the snide remark she expected, he simply offered her a tentative smile. "I am." He gestured towards the lines of students moving towards the carriages. "Shall we?"

Wordlessly, Hermione joined Malfoy in the line. When their turn came, he offered his hand again to help her step up into the carriage. His sudden chivalry after all the years of sneering, smirking and disparaging remarks unnerved her, despite the welcome change in demeanour.

Several students approached, saw the blond Slytherin, and turned away, so that when the carriage began moving they were alone. She didn't miss the expression on his face in response to their silent condemnation, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. 

"It's not going to be an easy year," Malfoy remarked suddenly.

"Why did you come back?" Hermione asked.

"I had to," he replied. "I have to face my demons and try to make amends." She nodded in response, and silence fell once again.

As they trundled closer to the castle, Hermione watched the thestrals that pulled them. Once you looked past their skeletal, slightly spooky appearance, they really were quite beautiful. 

The sound of a throat clearing caused her to look back over at her travelling companion. Her eyes widened to see a conjured bunch of daffodils clasped in Malfoy's extended fist. "--For me?" He inclined his head. "Thank you--they're lovely--but _why?"_

"New beginnings. They're your favourite, right?"

Hermione decided not to ask how he knew this, and accepted them carefully, so as not to bruise the petals. "Narcissus - the botanical name, and also the name of a mythological Greek hunter."

"Ahh, yes. He was cruel, contemptuous and vain. He raised the ire of the Goddess Nemesis, and met a rather unfortunate end." Malfoy gave a wry grin. "The irony doesn't escape me."

"Indeed. But there's still time to change your story's ending."

He regarded her hopefully. "I intend to do that."

Hermione inhaled the scent of the daffodils before meeting his gaze. "You can. I believe in you."

His answering smile was as bright as the flowers in her hand.


	2. Make Us Proud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Make Us Proud  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [StoneAndRoses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoneAndRoses/pseuds/StoneAndRoses)

The wails of small lungs invaded Malfoy Manor’s master suite, the assaulting noise coming from the room across the hallway. Draco was roused from sleep for the third time that night. His tempus charm revealed it was 3:47 in the morning. Glancing to his left, he noticed that luckily the silencing charm he had cast on Hermione’s pillow earlier that week was still working. She was sleeping as if she had taken a dose of draught of living death.

His wife had been running herself ragged with Scorpius. Hermione felt that she needed to try to be Merlin himself, even though in Draco’s eyes she already was. Instead of napping while their month old son napped, she would clean or garden or cook. Last week she had reorganized their bedroom library. Although they had agreed to limit the involvement of house elves in raising their son, she had _initially_ promised to let them do the majority of the house work. 

Draco frequently came home and told her to rest, but the timing of a major criminal case at work kept him at the Ministry more than he cared for. He felt he needed to do whatever he could to help, and that meant letting Hermione sleep through the night however he could.

The darkness dulled the cheery daffodil color of the nursery. Hermione had sworn up and down that the room couldn’t be blue, so they had settled on yellow.

His first attempt at calming his son was setting the quidditch-themed mobile above the crib to move. But that didn’t do anything. Sighing, Draco crossed the room to pick up the crying blonde baby. He began walking and rocking, trying to reason with Scorpius like an adult. 

“We’ve got to talk about this, Scorp. We need to make sure that we let your mum get some sleep. You’re making it a little difficult at the moment. Did you know she’s the most wonderful woman in the world? Even more than Grandmother? She’s everything to me, and she’s going to be everything to you too. You just don’t know it yet.”

Scorpius’ eyes were beginning to droop. Draco could feel his pillow soft mattress calling him to sleep.

“Maybe you do, actually. Maybe you know that your mum makes everyone smile, works hard to protect anyone that she deems necessary to protect. But that means sometimes she flies herself into the ground. And that means it's my job, sometimes Potters’, and yours eventually too, to take care of her.

Draco found himself becoming emotional. But his son needed to hear this, this was what he would pass to his son. Lessons for the rest of his life.

“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re going to make us proud. Continue to make the Malfoy name respectable again. I cannot believe the gift you have given me and your mum. But right now, I just need you to get more sleep. For your Mum’s sake.”


	3. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Frankly, My Dear  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [LumosLyra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumosLyra/pseuds/LumosLyra)

_“If you had any chivalry you'd—you'd be nice like— Well, look at Ashley Wilkes. Melanie can’t have any more babies and…”_

Hermione is buried in a veritable nest of blankets as the movie plays on the television screen. Empty plastic containers that once held hot chicken soup are discarded on the end table along with half-eaten sleeves of saltines and heaps of used kleenex. 

The floo lights up just as Rhett Butler kicks in the door to Scarlett O’Hara’s dressing room, proving that he completely lacks any sense of chivalry. 

“Are you watching that trash again?” Draco wipes his feet on the rug and siphons the soot from his robes, a brown bag tucked beneath his arm. 

“You can leave my soup and go right back to where you came from, Draco Malfoy, if you’re going to insult the cinematic masterpiece that is _Gone With the Wind.”_

He snorts, vanishing the tissues and used soup containers from the side table with a flick of his wand. “She marries three men she barely tolerates and then continues to pine after her sister-in-law’s husband! And don’t even get me started on the inaccurate portrayals and glorification of human slavery…”

“You’re a conceited, black-hearted varmint, Draco Malfoy, and I don’t know why I let you come and see me,” she dimples, probably looking utterly ridiculous in her nest of blankets with only her feet and head visible, but she can’t seem to make herself care when he cracks a smile and hands her the bag from her favorite bistro down the street. 

“Insufferable,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to her forehead like he’s done a thousand times since they became friends. “Feeling better?” 

She nods, unrolling the folded brown bag to retrieve yet another container of soup before tucking her blankets back around her shoulders. “What kind of healer catches the muggle flu anyway? I was starting to think I was immune to every illness out there.”

“The kind that doesn’t take proper care of herself and needs looking after.” 

“And I suppose you think you’re the proper person?” she chuckles inwardly at herself, clearly on a roll with her movie references, and isn’t remotely prepared for his response. 

“I’d like to be.” 

_Oh._

Her teeth find her bottom lip, crushing the plump flesh between them, as the scene where Rhett tells Scarlett she should be kissed often by someone who knows how rolls through her mind, and her eyes flick to Draco’s mouth. She realizes her mistake when she finds his silver eyes are full of mirth. 

“Sir, you are no—”

“Granger, I swear to Merlin that if you quote that movie at me one more time, I’m going to turn you over my knee.” 

“You’re not getting anywhere near my bum unless you take me to dinner first,” she teases with a cheeky grin.

His hand grasps her ankle and he tugs her towards him with a mischievous glint in his eye, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”


	4. A Princess’ Affliction; A Knight’s Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: A Princess’ Affliction; A Knight’s Decision  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 497  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [FaeOrabel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeOrabel/pseuds/FaeOrabel)

Hermione Granger had a secret. A secret she was born with and in order for no one to ever find out about it, her parents -- the King and Queen of Elysian-- locked her away in a high tower. 

Hermione’s tower was on the edge of the kingdom and guarded by a fearsome dragon, so that only the truly brave could rescue her. Her parents made a royal proclamation that whoever conquered the dragon and rescued the Princess could have her hand in marriage. This was all well and good, but once the knights came pouring in, they realized how much harder this task was going to be. 

No one was able to vanquish the dragon. 

Standing at over twenty feet high with golden scales that reflected the sun, it would terrify and blind anyone that stared too long. Most people didn’t get a chance, though, because the dragon was sure to scare away all who tried to come near it. 

It would blow knights away by flapping its huge wings. 

It would singe knight booty by blowing its fire. 

It would deafen knight ears with its monstrous roar. 

It didn’t help that most knights came charging at the dragon intending to do it harm, offending it with their cries of “I will destroy you, foul beast!” or “Prepare to die, giant lizard!”

All day knights would come riding in, and all day the dragon would sit atop the tall prison scaring them away.

If only the knights came at nighttime. 

For every dusk, a blinding light would encase the dragon, and in its place Hermione would return.

That was the princess’ secret. She was the “foul beast” and why no knight has been able to rescue her or claim her hand in marriage. 

Hermione wasn’t sure if it was her parents' plan for her to survive this challenge, for they always hated her ability. 

Slowly, knights stopped coming, and slowly Hermione got more and more lonely. 

On the eve of her 18th birthday, she raised her large head to see a lone knight casually walking up the path to her tower. She snorted and wondered if it was worth it anymore. She couldn't climb down as a princess, and she couldn't fly down as a dragon, so why did she even care if a knight finished her? Anything would be better than a life in this solitude. 

She watched as the knight stood at the bottom of her tower and took off his helmet. His silver hair was a beautiful contrast to her own. 

“My name is Lord Malfoy. I am here to free you. Do you need help getting down, princess?” Lord Malfoy called up to her. 

Hermione was shocked. 

“Yes, please,” she roared back, wondering if the Lord could even understand her. 

But when he smirked and started climbing the walls, she knew.

“Be right there!”

Apparently, all it took to break her curse was true love’s kiss.  


Her parents weren’t invited to the wedding.


	5. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Traditions  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [I_was_BOTWP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_was_BOTWP/pseuds/I_was_BOTWP)

Warm spring sun had tempted them onto the terrace for tea. Afterwards, Narcissa dozed in her chair, a blanket wrapped around her frail shoulders.

A small breeze, just enough to ruffle Hermione's hair, caused Draco to set down his book and leave his seat next to her. She watched, tears threatening, as he stooped to gently tuck his mother's blanket tighter. 

Worry creased his forehead as he moved back to Hermione's side. "I need a walk."

She glanced up at the nursery window. "What about—"

"Scorpius will be fine. The naptime alert charm hasn't failed us yet."

When he offered a hand, Hermione allowed him to help her up.

"You can take a nap after, too, if you want." Draco smirked, eying her rounded stomach.

She held in a scoff at the implied weakness, because honestly, she was increasingly tired as their daughter's birth neared. "Maybe I will."

"How far do you feel comfortable walking?"

An idea surfaced, one she'd been mulling over off and on. "Perhaps along the north woods?"

Draco bit his lip and glanced back at his mother. Awake, it seemed Narcissa’s face was always pinched in pain, but in slumber it was relaxed. "Alright. Maybe I should set the charm on her, too? In case when she wakes up she needs help."

They meandered down the gravel path, quietly lost in thought, until they came to the spot Hermione had in mind.

A field of daffodils bordered the copse. Most of the blooms were beginning to droop, their withered petals browning, but a bright few still waved in the wind.

"Shortly after our marriage,” Hermione began, “during an afternoon much like this, I took a walk here with your mother. She told me all about your father planting this for her."

Left unspoken was how Narcissa had still been in her prime, showing Hermione all around the grounds, no hint of illness.

"She told me Lucius instructed the gardener to mix other plants in with the daffodils. Because while daffodils were showy in the spring, their beauty quickly faded."

Draco stared into the distance. "She liked to recall how she laughed at father for that. Told him that daffodils had hidden strength. Below the delicate flowers were bulbs that staved off predators."

"Your grandparents named her well, when they broke tradition." 

A sudden kick from their daughter caught Hermione off-guard. She placed her palm over the spot where a foot protruded. "No charm needed to tell she's awake."

Draco added his hand and smiled—an increasingly rare genuine one.

Serendipitously, Hermione knew the idea she'd been harbouring was the right choice.

"I think I’ve finally settled on a name for our daughter." Her gaze swept the field again, before landing back on Draco, who'd already broken generations of expectations by marrying her.

"It's time to make flower names as much of a tradition as constellations. What do you think of Liri? For the liriope that grows here, beginning to bloom just as the daffodils are fading."


	6. Time after Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Time after Time  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Weestarmeggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weestarmeggie/pseuds/Weestarmeggie)

“What’s your favourite plant?” Neville Longbottom asked.

Draco watched, in the greenhouse's reflection, as Hermione Granger wrinkled her nose and shook her head. 

“I don’t have a favourite plant,” she said.

“Flower, then?” Neville pressed. He jerked his head in the direction of the flowerpots along a shelf behind them. 

Draco watched Hermione follow her friend and decided he wasn’t done eavesdropping. He followed, as Neville Longbottom explained the features of half a dozen magical flowers before Granger heaved a sigh and stopped him. 

“We don’t have magical plants in the muggle world, Neville.” She sounded exasperated as she trailed her fingers over the dusty shelf. 

‘More's the pity’, Draco thought.

“What about these then?” Neville asked, stepping further into the greenhouse and towards a selection of plants Draco recognised from his mother's garden. “One of these must be your favourite?”

Granger’s lips split into a grin and Draco felt his pulse begin to race, his hands grow clammy at the look of unadulterated happiness on her face. 

“Daffodils,” she exclaimed and something within Draco flared. A memory. The vestiges of which he couldn’t quite hold on to. “I love daffodils.”

“They’re not daffodils, Granger,” Draco protested, inserting himself between her and Longbottom. He knelt down and stroked the petals of the flower between his fingers, and because they _were_ magical daffodils, they preened under his touch. “They’re Narcissus’.”

“They’re both.” She countered.

Draco looked up at her with an arched eyebrow and, standing to full height, stared down at her in surprise. 

“The bulbs are toxic. Create a numbness which derives from the greek word—”

“Narcissus.” Draco said in agreement. His head was beginning to hurt. There was something he was forgetting, something right _there_ \- just out of his grasp, taunting him. “Yes. I know.”

“How do you know that?” Hermione asked, stepping closer to him. 

Her eyes were flicking across his face and Draco had the strangest urge to lean forward and tuck her hair behind her ears. 

“My mum's name is Narcissa,” he said, shaking his head. 

Hermione was advancing on him now, staring at him with wide eyes and Draco could do nothing except step back because no. No. No. No. This wasn’t—

She was a muggleborn. And he was—

“You’re him.” Hermione breathed.

Thousands of memories - half a dozen lives he had lived and yet hadn’t - flashed through his mind as she stopped in front of him. She stared up at him with wide eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

Draco’s eyes flicked to the daffodil plant she had somehow managed to lift when he hadn’t been paying attention, and a memory of another Draco, in another time, with another Hermione, held out his hand and accepted the gift with a tremulous smile. 

Draco did the same thing now, his heart soaring when the Hermione before him smiled wider than he’d ever seen, and pressed the pot into his hand. Her fingertips brushed his hand and shot a spark of _something_ through him.


	7. A daffodil for my father too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: A daffodil for my father too  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 471  
> Warnings: Major character death
> 
> AUTHOR: [FemmeBrulee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FemmeBrul%C3%A9e/pseuds/FemmeBrul%C3%A9e)

_To the Editor of the Daily Prophet,_

_Today marks twenty years since the end of the Second Wizarding War. Some are throwing parties to celebrate the occasion, while some prefer to commemorate in silence. Although I was too young to fight then, the Phoenix shines on my chest as a mark of respect for all who did._

_But that is not why I am writing to you today._

_I am writing to you because I want to set the record straight._

_For as long as I can remember, this day has been a rather difficult one for me. On this day each year, my godparents made it a point to take me to Memorial Park. We would walk past the headstones and they would tell me about the life of each person buried there._

_There were two graves we would leave for the very end of our visits._

_Draco Lucius Malfoy and Hermione Jean Granger._

_It was always strange looking at these two graves, erected side-by-side but treated in entirely different ways. Where Hermione Granger’s gravesite brimmed with flowers, letters, and gifts, Draco Malfoy’s stood empty. Some years, a rude message would be scrawled across his name, which the grave attendant would hastily wipe away._

_My godparents were always full of love for Hermione, who they said was the brightest witch of her age and gave her life to helping people and creatures less fortunate than her. Malfoy, on the other hand, they said was evil and cowardly until the day he died._

_And so, while they would leave a single daffodil by Hermione’s headstone, they walked past Malfoy’s without a second look._

_The history books say that Draco Malfoy took Hermione Granger near the end of the war and kept her somewhere no one could find. They say he tortured her and eventually killed her before taking his own life._

_That is a lie._

_I know because I was there. I was just a small child when these events transpired, but deep down in my heart, I knew that neither Draco Malfoy nor Hermione Granger had been done right by history._

_My memories are hazy. But with the help of my godfather, who knows a thing or two about Legilimency, I have recently been able to revisit them._

_What I can tell you is this. Draco Malfoy loved Hermione Granger. He loved her so much he would forget himself in the middle of a sentence. He loved her so much that he died protecting her from Death Eaters. And Hermione Granger loved him. She fought seven Death Eaters at once to avenge his death until her strength gave out._

_Hermione Granger died fighting. And Draco Malfoy did not die a coward._

_Enclosed with this letter is a vial containing this memory. Let it set the record straight._

_Sincerely,  
Rose Granger-Malfoy_


	8. Saved with a Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Saved with a Dance  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [KoraKunkel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoraKunkel/pseuds/KoraKunkel)

“Lady Hermione, would you care to dance?” 

Hermione took a deep breath to stop herself from shouting expletives. “No, Mr McLaggen.” 

“But you’re only standing here on the sidelines, surely you want to dance—” 

“Of course she does, don’t you, dear?” her mother answered, subtly pinching Hermione’s arm. 

She had begged her mother not to drag her to this idiotic ball, but of course, she insisted. At twenty, Hermione was already much too old to still be unmarried; she might as well be considered a spinster. 

And what a more perfect place to catch a husband than here.

Unable to argue with Lady Granger, Hermione was dragged onto the dance floor for the next quadrille. The music began and as they turned, Hermione was shocked to discover Lord Draco Malfoy, Earl of Pembroke, next to McLaggen. 

Heat crept up her cheeks as his piercing grey eyes met hers and she found herself unable to tear her gaze from him. The instruments muffled in her ears as they took hands, a jolt of electricity sliding down her spine. Though they had never been formally introduced, Hermione knew who he was all too well; the Malfoy family’s reputation was widely known. 

Their eyes never left each other for the entirety of the dance, and when it was over, McLaggen had to drag her from the floor. 

Once back with her mother, McLaggen began another trivial conversation. Hermione barely listened as her eyes roamed the ballroom for Lord Malfoy. 

Another quadrille began to play and when McLaggen asked for her hand again, Hermione’s heart sank. Her mother looked at her expectantly, as she was hoping for a match between them.

She quickly tried to think of an excuse, “I, uh—”

“Lady Hermione has already agreed to accompany me for the next dance,” a deep voice said behind her. 

Hermione’s heart fluttered in her chest and she turned to Lord Draco, gratefully taking his offered hand. They walked to the dance floor, and took their places amongst their peers. As the music started, the ballroom melted away and all that was left was the two of them as they danced. 

When their hands touched, her skin tingled and her heart sang. Her head turned to fog as he placed his hand on her waist to spin her. She didn’t even notice when the music stopped, and nearly collided with the couple next to them. 

“Lady Hermione, would you... Would it be quite forward of me to call upon you tomorrow?” Lord Draco asked, his eyes hopeful. 

“No, no it would not be forward at all. I’d like that very much.” Hermione replied, her voice sounding far off. 

Lord Draco bowed and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand. A warm feeling settled in the pit of her stomach at the action as he left her with a bewildered Lady Granger. 

Maybe her mother had been right in saying that the best place to find a husband was at a ball.


	9. Dinner Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Dinner Date  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [TheMourningMadam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMourningMadam/pseuds/TheMourningMadam)

“Are you nervous, son?” Draco asked, straightening Scorpius’ bowtie. 

Biting his lip—a habit he’d picked up from his mother—Scorpius nodded. “What if she doesn’t like our date?”

Draco stopped fiddling with the six-year-old’s cuffs to look at him, his brow furrowed. “What makes you think that she wouldn’t love everything you’ve done?”

“Because you made dinner. Not me. She’s gonna know!” 

“I don’t think she’ll even ask about who made dinner. But if you want, we can tell her you helped.”

Scorpius nodded again and snatched up a cluster of daffodils he’d picked from the garden that afternoon. Draco ran a hand through the boy’s blond curls only to have his hand swatted away. Chuckling, he asked, “Do you remember everything I told you about being chivalrous?”

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius nodded. “Yes, daddy. Open the door for her; pull out her chair.”

“And?”

“Give her a big kiss on the cheek and tell her she’s pretty.”

“Exactly. Make sure you ask her if it’s okay first, though. Always ask permission.”

“Yes, daddy.”

Draco turned and smoothed a palm over his own slick hair, pausing to straighten his tie in the mirror. When his son had approached him with the idea of a dinner date, he’d used the opportunity as a teaching moment to show his son some of the finer points of pureblood society. The _only_ fine points—how to treat a witch with kindness and respect. “You ready, son?”

Fiddling with the flowers in his grasp, Scorpius gave him a smile and held out one hand for Draco to grab. With a wave of his wand, a second bouquet of daffodils, wrapped with a delicate orange ribbon appeared. The two made their way down the grand staircase at the centre of the Manor, toward the front parlor. 

Voices filtered out, mixed with soft tinkling of feminine laughter. Draco and Scorpius looked at each other and each gave a mirroring nod of encouragement to the other. Entering the parlor, they found Hermione and Narcissa having a cup of tea as they awaited the boys’ arrival. Draco gave his son’s hand a tug. “Go ahead.”

Scorpius ran up to Hermione, his grin a mile wide. He sprang the flowers from behind his back and brandished them with a deep bow. “You look pretty, mummy. Can I give you a kiss?”

Hermione and Narcissa both laughed as his mother bent for him to reach. Draco went to his own mother and bowed, kissing her extended hand. “Mother. Radiant as always.”

Draco pressed his lips to his wife’s temple, and Scorpius narrowed his eyes. “No, daddy. Mummy is _my_ date. You ready?” he asked, sliding his tiny hand into his mother’s. 

Hermione raised a brow at Draco and gave her son a beaming smile. “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

Standing alongside Narcissa, Draco watched as his son—the picture of a gentleman—tucked Hermione’s hand into his elbow. Placing her hand in the same position, his mother praised, “You’ve taught him well.”


	10. Fighting For Each Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Fighting For Each Other  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [TheLastLynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastLynx/pseuds/TheLastLynx)

When fist met chin with a stomach-churning crunch, Hermione felt catapulted back to that night when she’d first learnt about chivalry.

“Chivalry is…” Her dad closed the book about King Arthur he had been reading from as he pondered her question. “It's when you stick up for someone. When you fight for them, at all costs.”

For some reason, that definition stuck. It came to her when the Sorting Hat was lowered over her head and its voice rang through her mind, weighing rationality against heart for what felt like ages. “The question is—” Hermione's heartbeat pounded in her ears as she waited for its judgement. “—how far you would go. What you would do for those dear to you.”

Hermione _felt_ the _"everything"_ rather than she _thought_ it, and the ear-splitting _"Gryffindor!"_ that roared through the Great Hall made her forget about it entirely, that’s how relieved she was.

So it was a long time until Hermione thought about chivalry again. She didn't think about it when she smacked Draco for insulting Hagrid, nor when she yelled at Professor Moody on behalf of Neville. Not even when she sent her parents to Australia and followed Harry around the country, remaining faithfully at his side, even as Ron didn‘t. Hermione simply stuck up for what was right. She fought for justice, and for those she loved.

But for some reason, when Ron’s fist hit Draco's chin, chivalry was the first thing she thought of. Only for a split-second though—then she pulled out her wand.

“ _Petrificus totalus_!” she shouted. Ron fell to the ground, stiff as a log of wood. Hermione dropped to her knees, tending to a knocked-out Draco.

“F—fuck,” he muttered as he came to. He tentatively touched his face and winced. “That hurts a lot more than I thought it would.”

Hermione shook her head, chuckling despite herself. “You complete idiot,” she said softly, tracing the skin where a purplish bruise was blooming. “You shouldn't have said that.”

“And what — ignored it?”

“Exactly.” Summoning a tin with Essence of Dittany, she carefully spread it over the bruise.

“Couldn’t well let him call you a—” Draco sucked in a breath when she touched a particularly sore spot.

Suddenly, the office door banged open, and Neville and Harry stormed in. “What happened—”

With an immobilised Ron on the floor and a battered Draco in Hermione’s arms, the situation seemed all too obvious. “Another brawl?” Harry narrowed his eyes. “What did you do this time, Malfoy.”

“ _Malfoy_?” Hermione jumped up, her voice shrill. “ _Ron_ started it. Malfoy defended me!”

“That’s what _I_ did!” screeched Ron while Neville helped him stand. “He’s hexed you, the Death Eater scum!”

“For the last time,” Hermione shouted angrily, her voice shaking, “His mistakes are in the past. He’s changed, and he’s mine now. And if you can’t accept that—” She took a shuddering breath. Harry, Neville and Draco stared. “Then we‘re done being friends, Ron Weasley!”


	11. Mixed Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Mixed Messages  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 495  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Kyonomiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyonomiko/pseuds/Kyonomiko)

“You’re fucking hopeless, Granger.”

She groans but can’t really protest. “Obviously,” Hermione grits out. “Which is the reason I asked you to help. Why I thought you would be anything but your usual awful self is beyond me.”

Harry enters on cue and flops down next to Theo. “Because I told him to be nice.” He smacks his lover on the shoulder and gestures to Hermione. “Be nice, you prick. Do you know how rarely she even admits she needs help? But I can’t do much for her with this antiquated pureblood nonsense.”

Theo looks back to the witch in question, and she raises a brow waiting. “Well?”

Dramatically, with all the theater he can muster, Theo Nott sighs and levels her with a look. “Did you send flowers as discussed?”

“I did! And he’s been awful this week. I thought we were getting somewhere, but he’s completely shut down.”

“Roses? Iris? A little Chrysanthemum for passion…?” He wriggles his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes in response.

“I didn’t imagine he would appreciate dramatics. Besides, large bouquets are not typically something a wizard wants to receive, so I kept it simple. Just the daffodil, for respect and unrequited love. Chivalry for the way he has treated me since we were partnered.”

“Just the daffodil? As in a single solitary daffodil?”

“Well, yes of course. What was he going to do with a huge bunch of them? Display them on his Ministry desk? I can’t see that being something that- what is so funny?!”

Theo is laughing and covering his face in his hands. “Oh, Merlin, Granger, you really don’t know much about all this do you?”

With a huff, she falls back against the sofa and pouts, “Apparently not. That is, again, why I came to you.”

Another smack to the shoulder from Harry and Theo rights himself. “Sorry, sorry. The things is, you brilliant, stupid witch, is that daffodils in general stand for all those wonderful things, but a single daffodil means misfortune. If you left him a single blossom with your name attached, he is under the impression you wish bad things to befall him. Which, incidentally, is probably why he’s been in such a mopey, moody state all week.”

“I… misfortune? Well, fuck me.”

“No thanks,” Theo quips and squeezes Harry’s knee. “He’s got me all to himself.”

With a rather evil glare, Hermione rises and offers a prefunctury ‘thanks’ to her friends. Apparently, she’s gone about this all wrong. 

Stopping at a florist on her way, she barrels into Draco’s office and throws a bundle of various red flowers on his desk, his eyes blowing wide at her entry. “There! That clear enough for you?”

Both hands on his cheeks, she kisses him hard, then pulls back to study his face.

His mouth curls into a grin, and he murmurs just before his lips meet hers again, “The flowers were hardly necessary, but I’ll take more of this.”


	12. Forever Fresh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Forever Fresh  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 499  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [NuclearNik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NuclearNik/pseuds/NuclearNik)

Brightly coloured flowers standing out against the drab interior of the fifth floor of the Ministry are the first thing Draco sees each morning upon arrival to work. Rain or shine, snow or sleet, Granger has a single flower displayed in a ugly little vase, unevenly shaped and barely capable of showing off the beauty blooming on green stems within.

When Mother's Day rolls around, the following Monday there are pretty yellow flowers with ruffled centres on her desk. They are daffodils, he thinks. He can hear the word in his mother's voice, can see her surrounded by natural life, meticulously tending to her gardens every weekend.

Potter stops by Granger's office to visit, and Draco overhears a snippet of their conversation.

"They were my mother's favourite."

_Were._

He, too, knows the pain of losing a mother. On the day meant for celebrating motherhood he pays tribute through the thing his mother loved the most: her garden. Each year he prunes the rose bushes, selecting one longstemed beauty to leave at her grave.

Later in the day, when the wild-haired witch across the hall stomps over to his desk to explain in great detail why his proposal is _all wrong_ and how he should fix it, the light usually flashing in her eyes is dimmed. His gaze follows her back to her desk, catching a glimpse of her tenderly stroking the petals adorning the surface with gentle fingertips before giving a perfunctory wave of her wand to shut the door behind her.

* * *

The next time he sees her outside of work, it is at the opening celebration of Hogwarts' memorial garden.

With a flourish, she summons not a bouquet but a pallet stacked with rooted plants in small containers. Floating it beside her, she walks along the path decorated with plaques, stopping to plant a flower by the names of the fallen as she goes.

Daffodils, again.

She catches him staring at her somewhere near the W's and quietly says, "For rebirth. Something good to grow out of the darkness."

The weight of her words hits him in the chest; there is something so pure, so bright about her despite all she's been through, and in that moment, all he wants to do is take her in his arms and try to soak up some of that light.

* * *

On the day their daughter is born, he fights his way through medi-witches trying to stop him from entering Hermione's hospital room with an armful of flowers; that unfortunate incident during the war with gifted Devil's Snare made them all a bit twitchy.

When he finds her, the scene nearly undoes him. She is tired but radiant, and a tiny, pink cheeked bundle sleeps peacefully on her chest.

Those big, brown eyes light up when she sees his bounty, and when they finally get home, they plant yellow daffodils and red roses in their front yard, and their child grows up knowing just how much her grandmothers would have loved her.


	13. Practice makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Practice makes Perfect  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 498  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [anne_ammons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons)

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Granger. Welcome to our home.” Lucius Malfoy spoke through clenched teeth and a little vein throbbed in his temple. 

“Really? Is it a pleasure? Because it doesn’t sound like it. It sounds like you’d prefer a case of Dragon Pox.”

“Of course I don’t sound like it.” He spat. “This is no surprise. I don’t like this. None of it suits.”

Narcissa remained calm. “Which is why we are practicing, because he’s your son. And, just as importantly, you love me. And making sure this goes well is important to _me_.”

Lucius scowled, “The things we do for love.”

“Exactly. Or when we’ve been blackmailed. Try again.”

He took a deep breath. “Miss Granger. Welcome. I’m glad you could join us for dinner.”

His tone was still stiff, maybe even a little sarcastic this time. It held neither warmth nor welcome.

Narcissa sat back and sighed. “Is that the best you can do?”

“Perhaps.” Lucius shrugged like a petulant child.

“Then I must not have been clear about my expectations. Is that the case?”

He dropped his eyes, “No.”

“And what are the consequences if this goes wrong?”

“You’ve threatened to cut me off from your affections,” he pouted. 

“Exactly. And neither of us want that, now do we?”

Narcissa bit back a smile. She was the only one who knew that behind his cool, reserved exterior, Lucius was far more teddy bear than blood purity sycophant, at least in her hands. Malfoy men tended to love both obsessively and singularly, which is why Narcissa knew that the attachment her son had formed would either be accepted by them both or would cause a rift in their family, so she was using the full weight of her powers of persuasion to make sure Lucius behaved. 

“Correct. But, I’m not an overly cruel taskmistress. I can provide incentives, too.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “Like?”

“Oh, you know I can make it worth your while, Lucius.” 

He stopped and pondered. “I think I can do aloof. Is that enough?”

“It’s a start.”

o0o

An elf announced the arrival of the young couple and Lucius and Narcissa walked to the foyer to greet them. Much was riding on the next few moments.

As they entered the foyer, however, Narcissa found herself at a loss for words. The girl was wearing a bright yellow dress that did nothing for her complexion and even less for her voluminous hair. For his part, Draco looked at the young woman on arm his adoringly and then towards his parents anxiously.

She felt Lucius squeeze her arm, as he spoke up. “Miss Granger. Please let me welcome you to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa and I are so glad that you are joining us this evening.”

Narcissa looked at her husband who was suddenly the picture of manners and everyone seemed to relax. 

They could do this. It would be okay. And, she was going to have to pay up.


	14. beltane seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: beltane seduction  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count: 491  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [Msmerlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Msmerlin/pseuds/Msmerlin)

Beltane at Malfoy Manor Gardens was once again the pinnacle of Wizarding society. Everyone was vying for an invite, and the fact that Hermione received that white embossed invitation was no surprise.

After all, she’d been snogging the family patriarch in broomclosets for the past three months.

She never thought she’d enter some sort of secret relationship with Draco Malfoy—of all people, yet here she was, surrounded by the biggest and brightest of British Wizarding society in a strappy ball gown looking for the one boy turned man that her twelve year old self would hate. 

Ginny told her she looked like a million Galleons, Harry would  _ only _ look her in the eye, and Ron tried to stuff her into his set of outer robes. It was safe to say she’d selected the right dress for the event, but she was hoping he’d like it.

The unspoken, unmistaken _ him _ .

The attraction hadn’t been immediate, he was still that pointy faced ferret when they began working together nearly two years ago but something changed. He stopped the barbed remarks, and sharply lined words and replaced them with gratitude… kindness even. 

Folders tossed on her desk morphed into scones picked up from a bakery and then before she knew it, he was holding the door for her as they’d move between floors towards urgent meetings.

And then it happened. A stolen kiss after a long day and suddenly she was hooked.

Except that’s where it always seemed to end. Just snogging. 

She didn’t mind, of course. He was a great kisser but she was nearly thirty years old and she couldn’t deny the want for  _ more. _

And she was bound and determined to make tonight  _ the night _ .

Donning her skimpiest knickers, and several beauty charms later she was prepared to seduce him.

Her eyes swept across the crowd, searching through the sea of glitter and gold in vain, hoping to catch just a glimpse of him.

“Granger.”

Her fingers flexed, and she fought the urge to spin around like some flouncing school girl.  _ One...two...three… _ With a breath caught in her throat, Hermione turned towards the silken voice, a smile already tugging on her painted lips. “Malfoy.”

He was draped in white from head to toe, bespoken robes hugging his broad chest, the cut highlighting his lithe muscles. He was polished, and pristine, as always, but the way his eyes ran over her figure, she knew that deep within that clever mind of his was the depravity of a school boy.

“You have a lovely home.” She gestured beyond them to the Manor with her clutch.

His eyes followed movement, she could see the gears within his mind turning, formulating some sort of plan. “Would you like a tour?”

The question sent a shiver down her spine, and lit not just the fire in her belly, but also hope in her soul. “I’d love one… perhaps we could start in your room?”


	15. My Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: My Lady  
> Rating: G  
> Word Count: 494  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [NotAMuggleMiss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAMuggleMiss/profile)

Draco adjusted his jacket for possibly the hundredth time in the past hour and sighed. He was nervous. First dates were always terrifying, but this wasn’t just any first date. He had been friends with Hermione Granger for over two years now; he knew what he had to lose. 

It had taken him several months after her last breakup to admit to himself that he liked her and weeks since then to work up the courage to actually ask her to dinner, not that he would ever let her know. Women didn’t like _too_ much vulnerability.

After a final look in the mirror, he picked up the bouquet of daffodils on his living room table and flooed to Hermione’s cottage. She was already waiting, dressed in navy silk, and his breath caught in his chest when she smiled. 

“For you, my lady,” he said with a bow as he handed over the flowers.

“Your lady? Don’t you think that’s a bit much, Draco?” Hermione questioned with a quirked brow.

“Can’t a man be chivalrous towards his date anymore?” he teased back with a smirk.

“Chivalry! Oh, really,” she replied with a mocking glare. “Did you know that chivalry is nothing more than an informal and varying code of conduct developed in the late 12th century? And that it has vastly more to do with the behavior of knights in combat than romance or courting?”

She walked to the front door and Draco followed, a vaguely sappy look on his face. She glanced back at him as she reached for the door handle.

“Whatever are you looking at me like that for?” she asked.

“Like what?” Draco grinned back at her, feeling especially pleased with having ruffled her feathers a little.

“Well, to be honest, you look a little like a lovesick fool.” she said impatiently, a vague look of annoyance in her lovely eyes. “There’s no need to lay it on so thick when I know this mostly a pity date.”

“Oh, well, you’re doing that thing again where you lecture me about something I don’t know. And I suppose I like it,” he quipped, ignoring her self-deprecating comment. “Maybe I am a lovesick fool.”

Hermione looked down at her hands, a blush rising to her cheeks. He could tell the exact moment she realized she was still holding the bouquet, her face lit up with recognition and surprise.

“Daffodils…” she murmured. “New beginnings?”

Hermione raised her eyes slowly to meet his, her gaze at once hesitant and hopeful.

“Well, I’d rather hoped it would be just a beginning,” he answered. “It’s not a pity date, I promise.”

His earnest expression had her shaking her head with a smile. She conjured a vase for them and placed her flowers on a side table before reaching out to place her hand through the crook of his arm.

“In that case, lead the way, my good sir,” she said with a rare, girlish giggle.


	16. My Heart With Pleasure Fills And Dances With The Daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: My Heart With Pleasure Fills And Dances With The Daffodils  
> Rating: T  
> Word Count:497  
> Warnings: N/A
> 
> AUTHOR: [fandomfairytales](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfairytales/pseuds/fandomfairytales)

They say chivalry is dead.

Draco had his doubts.

For all his faults, he’d done the right thing. He didn’t just step aside when he saw Weaselbee press a gentle kiss to Hermione’s cheek in the wake of the final battle; no, he turned on his heel and fled.

His mother had caught up to him just outside the Great Hall, with shameful, fledgeling tears stinging in his eyes, she held him close, her hand rubbing soothing circles into his back; she understood that Hermione Granger was the last loss he could stand to suffer that day.

“Love has a funny way of working itself out, my little dragon.” 

“Not this time. Not for me. How can I compete with a man who actually deserves her?”

“Simple… Stop competing, it never worked for you before; try something else.”

“But what would father-”

“He’s gone Draco!” She interjected sternly “Your father has no say, he gave up his right to it when he let my son be marked by that _monster_. Be your own man! Ask yourself, what would _I_ do?”

Draco sobbed; a broken keen that would make any heart as fragile as glass.

“Oh, Mum.”

“I always wished you'd call me that.”

Sitting on cold, grimy flagstones he hugged her tightly, appearances and propriety be damned.

“So, what _are_ you planning to do?”

“I honestly have no clue.”

“Then we shall have to pick ourselves up off this floor and get started so I can plan how to properly spoil my future grandchildren.” 

They laughed together for the first time in years; life might not have been _good_ yet, but it was certainly looking better.

oOo

It was a bright spring day when he received the good news about his best friend (funny thing, fate; he’d managed to mend the bridge with the swotty muggle-born a little _too_ well).

Daily prophet and daffodils in hand, he ran down the hall in his robe to tell his mother with a cheer that ‘Weaselbee’ had fucked it all up.

What a scandal it was. Granger, jilted a day before the wedding of the century, in favour of one Lavender Brown; dubbed ‘Harlot Extraordinaire’, or ‘Tart de la Tart’ if you please.

He knew it was tasteless to celebrate, but years later, his furtive feelings for Hermione hadn’t waned; and now opportunity was knocking.

oOo

It took all of six months and he hardly had to try; still not wanting to take advantage he let her come to him.

Whenever she cried on his shoulder, he would lovingly pass her a hanky. He’d do anything to win her smile, pass her his coat _before_ she could so much as shiver…

Until, finally, out of the blue she noticed him and decided she didn’t want longing displayed on his pointed features.

He wasn’t certain what she saw after she kissed him. Shock, confusion, relief maybe? Whatever it was made her want to do it again and for that, he was incredibly thankful.

**Author's Note:**

> [VOTE HERE](https://forms.gle/cstThyAsYAh2ZLE37)


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